Never Be Hetero(Normal)itive
by Magic Flying Spud
Summary: Kim is born as James Possible Jr. but longs to be recognized as a girl. Likewise, Ron is born as Veronica Stoppable and longs to be recognized as a boy. After Jim Jr. comes to school bearing an impressive shiner from one of his missions, Veronica decides that this boy she's always been nervous around needs help, and becomes his partner.
1. Crush

James Possible Jr. was not excited for his first day of Pre-K. His heels dug into the lawn as his mom plowed him over to the car. They ended up making a deal. Little James would behave if he was allowed to bring his Cuddlebuddy, Pandaroo with him. His Mom didn't really like that compromise, nor did she think James wearing such bright pastel colors was a good idea. But it made James happy and who was to argue with that?

But she still caught James looking pretty forlorn when she drove off. James was a lot to handle. Always jumping around with his boundless energy, doing daring do things he should maybe leave up to — honestly it sounds ridiculous but — superheroes? He had auburn locks and a shoulder-length Beatles haircut.

A lot of adults mistook him for a girl, but James always wretched at that idea. As effeminate as James was, he didn't really get along with other girls. If anything, he seemed _scared_ of them. As expected, James ended up having quite a first day. The teacher, Mrs. LaLoney, said that James kept to himself most of the day but people wouldn't stop staring at his Pandaroo. So James hugged them tighter.

During recess, some bullies picked on James and made fun of his hair, his outfit, his toys, everything. They wouldn't leave the poor boy alone. That is until Veronica Stoppable stepped in.

Ann didn't know that the Stoppables had a girl. She always saw the skinny little thing with cropped, blond hair and assumed — but anywho, she protected James. Told the other kids off. Usually this is how lifelong friends are born in Pre-K. But that doesn't quite happen.

They just sort of stared at each other for a long time. Like they were trying to recognize someone from something long since past. It's very melancholy for two four year olds. So instead of anything significant happening, Veronica hugged Jim tight, squeezing the boy until he was forced to drop his Pandaroo and hug back.

But they didn't talk or even face each other until sophomore year of high school, but when that finally happened? Well.

They saved the world.

* * *

Jim Possible Jr. is fifteen years old and has already mastered sixteen different styles of kung-fu. No joke. By a longshot, he's the most popular kid in school with the most spotless academic record. No one in town _doesn't_ know Jim Possible because he's probably done a favor for pretty much everybody by this point. But not so much lately because he's been kinda busy. Doing what you might ask?

Oh, just saving the world, no big.

He does that for free by the way. But if you need someone to babysit for you, there is a section for that on the website and _that_ costs money. So please. Please please please! Call him! Beep him! If you wanna reach him!

Jim has a good life. All-star quarterback, class treasurer, National Honor Society President, Yearbook Club committee, Sustainability Director of the Environment Club, and he can _tap_. Just ask him to do Moses Supposes for ya.

Honestly, Jim can do anything. He's been groomed for it. With a brain surgeon mom, rocket scientist dad, and twin brothers who look up to him like he's the stuff of epics, he's got it all. Really, Jim only has one problem, and it's certainly _not_ Doctor Drakken and his assistant, Shego. Those two can schlep all they want, they don't stand a chance against Jim.

Jim's problem — well — he doesn't really know. He just knows that he's _different_ from the other kids. How is he different? He doesn't know.

It starts in the locker room. After practice. The guys are changing and Brick Flagg, an older boy who's been locked in the senior year for an ambiguous amount of time, drops his trousers and — well — Jim gets caught gawking at it.

Jim is not _gay_. No way. He definitely likes girls. Erm. Okay, maybe he's overcompensating. He _does_ think Josh Mankey is kinda cute. But Brick? No! Brick's like — an old man. Probably.

Jim's only looking at Brick's dick because he's never seen someone else's before. Jim um — late bloomer, ya know? People keep telling him it'll happen soon and he nods along like he actually cares. Really, he's secretly hoping someone's defective with his body and that puberty never comes.

He knows that's dumb and delusional. Especially for someone to think when they are so busy saving the world on the reg.

Anyways, Jim's not good at conflict resolution, so he punches Brick out. It feels really good, the guy's flabby chin momentarily smacking across his knuckle. Turns out Brick has a glass jaw and he drops. Everyone's quiet. People talk about boys kinda being assholes to each other but this?

Jim bites his lip and pretends that it's not super weird that he just conked someone out. He smiles to himself and thinks of something funny to say. That's usually how he gets by. Jim doesn't have any friends other than Wade, but all the jokes make it _seem_ like

One of the older football kids, Brick Flagg, catches Jim staring at his junk while everyone is changing. Brick used to be Top Dog until Jim came along, so he used it as an opportunity to accuse Jim of being gay. Jim knows that he's definitely _something_, but he's _not_ gay. Maybe. But he can't let people think that, not when he's saving the world which is the one thing he actually has going for him.

So he punches Brick. Right in the jaw. In front of all his teammates. He's not really sure how else to handle it, but he gets lucky and it works out okay. So he looks up at his teammates and drawls, "Is this guy seriously still our Lineman?"

It works enough. Rumors don't spread. It's good. No one can know that Jim has a violent side. Heck, if he wasn't a world renowned celebrity, he would make that no one knew _anything_ about him.

* * *

Veronica Stoppable is the wallflower to your wallflower. Probably the funniest person in the class of '07, but no one seems to notice. She doesn't care though. She doesn't need people to laugh at her jokes; she's no Rockwaller after all. Her jokes make _her_ laugh and that's enough.

Like Jim, she doesn't have any friends. The key difference here though is that _everyone_ knows Veronica has no friends. Aside from the naked mole rat. Oh, and Barkin! Sort of.

She _did_ give Barkin a funny look that one time...she was definitely thinking about something else, but whenever the _look_ comes up, she knows exactly what the guy's talking about.

The cheerleaders are also sort of warming up to her and before you get excited, no. She's not on the cheer squad. Just the MIddleton Mad Dog. Which is cool! She does love that phony dog froth she can spit all over the place. But she's pretty sure that Rockwaller only let her on the team so she laugh _at_ her and not _with _her.

But it's nice to receive attention at least. Otherwise she's stomping around the black top, waving futile jazz hands in the air like Mrs. freakin' Cellophane….

_...shoulda been my name! Missus Cellophane! Because you can talk right through me! Walk right by me! And never know I'm there!_

_NEVER!_

_EVEN!_

_KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!_

_..._

Okay, Veronica, you just _thought_ of a Chicago reference, you don't have to _make_ it into a whole production.

….

….

….

…._Iiiiiii'm theeeeeeere...hope I didn't take up too much of your time._

Veronica used to do drama club by the way. Like Jim, she can _tap._ Although neither of them really auditioned for anything.

Jim just liked to dance. He'd tap, tap away in any ensemble. You could make him a postboy, a tree, a splotch of grass, _anything,_ and he will dance. He's just not great at acting, or honestly, emoting for that matter.

Veronica gets that. She's not great at the whole _communication_ thing either. She just doesn't audition because there are never any parts for her. Her mom always finds out what production Middleton High School is putting on and goes through the cast albums with her, picking out the things in her range.

But she wants the bit roles. Like Mr. Mushnik in _Little Shop of Horrors! _Or Charlie the Anvil Salesman from _The Music Man_! Or even the Piragua guy from _In the Heights!_

(Although that's not out yet, but when it premiers at the Richard Rodgers, Veronica can't move from her seat during the intermission because she's so starstruck by the vision of her own destiny.)

But none of that matters because Veronica is a _girl._ A _soprano_ at that.

_I want to act with jokes that're good  
__I want to get - get to see 'em laughin'  
__Yuckin' it up at my  
__(What's that word again?) oh - bits_

_I'm a soprano, but maybe I could  
__Be funny, be witty, memorable  
__Fartin' away with my  
__(Whad'ya call 'em?) Armpits!_

She chops off her hair. Hopes it'll make a difference. Cuts it out with the dresses and sticks with jerseys. She looks in the mirror and though she knows her mom and dad are about to curse her out, she feels weirdly — centered?

She can probably make friends like this. Something about dressing like a boy makes her feel empowered. Hmph.

So she decides to start with the boy who will most likely get all these weird feelings she's been having lately — and for some reason, that's Jim Possible.

Veronica remembers seeing this boy who seemed to want to be anything but, remembers feeling how unhappy she was. She remembers the boy's sad emerald eyes looking over her body and taking in how unhappy she was. Finally, Veronica remembers wanting to _be _Jim, and the shake in her spine told her that Jim wanted to be her too. And Veronica knew that would make them both happier.

But how can you possibly be friends with someone you've already placed so high on a pedestal?

Well, the way teen hero Jim Possible seems to be growing...don't seem like he'll be getting any lowlier, so no time like the present!

_I don't know when  
__I don't know how  
__But I know something's starting right now_

_Watch and you'll see  
__Soon I will be  
__Part of your world_

But Jim is also a world famous jock with nice teeth, so it's probs a wash. But dingity dang doo da, she'll be darned if she doesn't try!

* * *

Jim looks a little worse for wear today. He's good at hiding it — but Veronica's so lonely, her interactions so sparse — that she's become quite adept at reading people. Jim's not happy and though this might be the most harrowing moment to talk to him — it's _the_ moment.

Veronica notes the shiner concealed behind the make-up Jim's thrown on. The purple reflects as gray sunspots from the overhead fluorescents. He's limping too, and most noticeably, still in his classic mission outfit. Black turtleneck with ¾ sleeves. Baggy olive cargo pants. Utility belt.

Jim swings open his locker doo and pops a hip against the side, swiping books back onto the shelves with the rapidity of a poker dealer. Meanwhile, the monitor on the top shelf flickers on and a boy starts yapping at him.

Veronica's heard of this him: Wade. Super young, but super smart. Always drinking soda apparently, Veronica always heard slurping whenever Jim was doing his mission thing inside his locker but now Veronica knows it's just the kid.

Veronica hesitantly gets a little closer and notices that Jim is grimacing about something. Then she hears what Wade's saying and it clicks together. It's this conversation that sounds kinda repetitive, like they've talked about this before. Like Jim is grunting affirmatives at the right moments to move things along. Bottom line: Jim needs backup and Wade doesn't care how Jim's been doing this for two years, he's been on board for three months now and wants Jim to open up a little.

"Yeah, yeah," Jim snarls. "Save it for the after school special. Can you please just update me on Drakken's whereabouts? I'm still kinda tweaked that he got away."

"Drakken? Got it," Wade says, absently typing. "But you should know — "

"I know, believe me, _I know_."

The screen flashes black and returns with a map sprawled across it. Dang. You know, it's like actually high-key bananas that freaking James Bond goes to their school, yet no one knows anything about them. Well, at least, most people don't realize that don't actually know anything about Jim; boy's good at painting a picture for everyone.

This is so nerve-wracking, she hates it. It's just going to be embarrassing. But what the heck, baby bird's gotta fly someti—

Jim actually sees Veronica first. He mouths a shy little "_Hey,"_ and rolls his eyes towards the monitor. "_One sec. _So Drakken's in the nearby timeshare. Hm. Tonight I'll do a stakeout if — oh seriously?

"Yeeeeeeah," Wade sighs. "That's the tenth message from him. Montgomery Fiske really needs our help I guess."

"Alright. Ugh. It should be fun, I guess. Wade, can you get me a ride to — "

"Done."

"— you rock, Wade," Jim smiles as if he was already planning on interrupting his own sentence that way. "Hey, what's up, Veronica?"

"Um — I just wanted to ask about your shiner," Veronica says weakly, then quickly adds. "Seeing how you're like a superhero now."

"Huh?" he gently touches his face and grimaces at the poor makeup job. "No, I'm not — I'm just your basic, average guy."

"Uh huh," she smiles. It's weird seeing him get kind of defensive, although that makes sense. "What happened? Like how did you get hurt that bad?"

Oh shoot, Veronica. You don't just ask people that. You always lead in with a friendly _How are you doing?_ followed by some pleasantries and updates. That's how his parents do it. But now Jim's gonna think she's a total freak and —

"Um, no, went toe to toe with a robot earlier," Jim says with no hesitation in his clearest of voices. "Honestly it would've been so cool if it didn't hurt me. Heh."

Veronica smiles. "Hey! That's funny! You're funny!"

He blushes. "Yeah — well, you kind of have to be when you're alone all the time right?" His eyes hang on Veronica's for a second too long and they both look away. "It like keeps me calm. Sorry. I shouldn't be talking about this at school, it's a little heavy for some people and — "

"I don't mind at all," she says honestly.

Jim's mouth slowly closes in, eyes darting about, trying to snatch another excuse to not talk from the air. But he can't think of anything. "Is my bruise really that bad?"

She nods solemnly and Jim briefly deflates. "Darn. I need to watch out for that I guess. Hey, we have next period together right?"

"Well, Barkin kinda teaches every class so — probably."

"Can you tell him I'm helping this archaeologist in my first like _Indiana Jones_ mission?"

"Oh," Veronica's face falls. "You don't want to hang out?"

"Um. Some other time," Jim shrugs. "Bueno Nacho, tomorrow. My treat?"

Ooh. Tempting. Veronica does love Bueno Nacho. Heck not even just Veronica but Rufus. But Jim's shiner is more important. She very tentatively grabs Jim's bicep and flinches when she feels those bulging muscles tense. She looks into Jim's eyes and sees sparks flying, but they quell fast. It's weird, but they don't talk about it. "Your ride can wait up, JP. I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

Jim looks at Veronica very carefully. Raises an eyebrow. "JP?"

"Uh, yeah, it's your name!" Veronica cackles.

"Jay….Pee….oh. Oh! I like that actually," Jim runs a hand through his short hair, wide chest broadening with his reach. This kid is like a freight chain. _Woo woo_, Veronica whistles in her head. "Don't tell anyone but I don't really like my name — "

"I don't either," Veronica says quickly. Without thinking. She purses her lips like she just swallowed something very sour.

" — so JP's a keeper…." Jim purses his lips in concentration.

Veronica frowns. "Veronica. It's cool, a lot of people forget my name and — "

Jim raises a hand to her. "_Ronnie_. How's Ronnie?"

"Hm," she bites her lip. It's not perfect — but it's going somewhere. "Better?"

Jim smiles so wide it's almost like a different person. "Spankin'. Cool, so we can hang tomorrow. I think it'll be really fun, but I'll see you later, okay?"

Veronica doesn't say goodbye, she just watches Jim go, and she knows it's wrong to stop him from leaving but — what if there is no tomorrow? That's kinda scary, and Jim deserves better. She's not sure what is sparking her to do this but she rushes forward and clamps her pale hands to Jim's bicep and the boy almost stumbles over, tripping back into place before the girl. He seems kinda annoyed with her, but Veronica's not letting go.

"If you don't go to the nurse, I'm going with you to Germany."

"But — "

Please take a moment to understand that the obvious answer is for Jim to just go to the nurse. Veronica realizes it right away and frowns at such a poor excuse for a gambit —

" — how do you want to help me?" Jim tries not to smile.

"Um — I'll — fight bad guys and stuff," she shrugs and off her own contagious grin says, "Note: Serious face."

"Serious face noted," Jim relaxes. "Okay — nurse _then_ you go to Germany with me?"

"Huh?" Veronica blushes. "Uh — no no — it's not an _if, then _clause, just an _or _bag, I can't — "

"You can," he purrs. "I thought you said it was easy. Honestly though, this missions's a breeze. No bad guys! So _not_ the drama."

Veronica narrows her eyes. _So not the drama_….that is so like — flamboyant for a guy to say? Maybe….maybe Jim is into guys? Is that why they connect? Because Veronica only likes girls and — no. Jim's definitely not into guys. Maybe both ways but not — gosh. What is it about this person?!

"Do you know where the nurse is?" Jim asks. "I've never been."

Veronica offers a weak smile. "Yeah. I have. Heh heh. Follow me. Maybe she can teach us first aid."

Jim raises an eyebrow. "I don't — do we have to?"

Veronica squeezes the bridge of her nose and feigns making a scene. "JP, c'mon. You shouldn't be hanging onto every bruise, scab, and shiner just because you don't have time to sit around and marinate."

"M-marinate?"

"Yeah! Like, like chilling out. Marinate!"

"Ah," Jim points up like an academic. "Context clues, I caught that — but _marinate_?"

Veronica pumps one arm into the air. "Never be normal!"

Jim blinks, and a faint red comes to his cheeks. That was super cute. Never be normal, huh? Neither say anything for some time, and Jim kinda notices something that he hadn't earlier. It really brings him back to Pre-K. He almost blurts out and asks why Ronnie decided to cut her hair so short, but thinks better of it. He's a _boy_. Boys don't ask questions about other people's gender identity.

Jim chews the inside of his cheek while they walk and he remembers that same fear that came to him at the playground. But that's not going to stop him from hanging out with this boy.

Oops! Girl. Veronica's….a….girl….?

Jim tilts his head to the side. Oh snap. Maybe — no. That'd be crazy. What are the odds that him and Veronica are cut from the same cloth? But he can't just _not_ say it. It's like he's been waiting for this moment his whole life.

So he makes sure to not speak or cry, and throws his arms around Veronica's shoulder and brings her in, palms touching her thin, wispy hair. Veronica's own hands tentatively move down to Jim's waist and — she's kinda thankful they're both the same height because she does _not_ want Jim seeing how scarlet her face is.

Jim whispers something so delicate that his hand clenches a little harder and Veronica can't help but reach up and squeeze it.

"Thank you."


	2. Monkey Fist Strikes!

"_Ah. James Possible Jr. and their…. "_

" — _huh? Oh! Oh! Right, yeah, so this is Veronica Stoppable. She's my new trainee!" _

"_...Charmed I'm sure. Mr. Possible, you understand that I had to email your tech-person __**ten times **__before you elected to assist me?"_

"_Oof. Sorry about that. I've just had so many missions recently and you know, I'm just one guy..."_

Veronica doesn't get how Jim does this. The um...hero thing. Like Montgomery Fiske is a big jerk to treat Jim like this, yet Jim is still smiling. Still getting his way through the conversation.

"_Hmph. You understand that my work is far more important than Doctor Drakken melting a cheese covered building?"_

"_Actually that building was __**made out of cheese**__."_

"_Oh, I thought it was a cheese covered building__...ahem! Well, let's carry on then, shall we?"_

When Fiske walks off to the temple, Veronica lingers back for a second to talk to Jim. She's figuring that Jim will want to vent or something — because seriously! What a jerk! But Jim just shrugs it off, _No big_, and all that. He tells her that they have to smile and be nice to these people, because that's the whole point of the work. But jeez, this Fiske guy. Totally not what either of them expected.

After Jim and Ronnie ran out of things to talk about on the flight down, Wade prompted them to watch a documentary about Montgomery Fiske's excavations. Dude apparently can't get enough of monkeys, and that's a red flag and a half. Jim doesn't see the connection though. Apparently he doesn't _get_ how monkeys are just about the creepiest, most horriblest monsters to ravage the —

— point being: Montgomery Fiske is not a very nice man. And also probably a super-villain. Like c'mon! Mean British guy? Loves monkeys? Archaeologist?! No way! But Jim gives the gentleman the benefit of the doubt (begrudgingly).

Jim's very different in mission mode. He doesn't quip as much, and when he does speak, it's in a lower register than usual. Ronnie's not sure if he does it on purpose or not, but the guy definitely holds himself a little differently, especially in front of other men. His legs spread wider, shoulders roll back, and his posture is immaculate. It's very put-on, but people don't seem to notice. Veronica's kinda jealous because she's always had a hard time acting like anyone that's not herself.

But there is a resentment in Jim's eyes, so Ronnie jokes around a lot for his sake and gets a few chuckles.

But still, Jim is pretty steamed the whole mission. Getting the Jade Idol is a pain. When a band of monkey ninjas strike and steal the artifact from their very hands, that's infuriating, but that's not even the worst of it.

Montgomery Fiske is totally cool with losing the Idol! Guy is_ absolutely _a super-villain! So Ronnie tugs on Jim's sleeve enough times that they swing back and break into Fiske's home and —

Heh heh. Yep!

"I knew it! I knew you were a supervillain! There's no way an archaeologist who is so fixated on monkeys could be anything but! What's your supervillain name, Montgomery Fiske?! Is it — oh no, it can't be….IS IT MONKEY FIST?!"

Monkey Fist, now dressed in a black gi, his big hairy hands and feet finally exposed, blinks a few times to process this. Finally he drawls, "It is my monicker, yes, but all of a sudden it is leaving a very bad taste in my mouth."

The showdown begins in the mansion and works its way through a secret entrance to the monkey shrine where the four Jade Idols are located. Ronnie's scared out of her mind — this guy's got _fangs! _— and Jim grabs her.

"Veronica. Ronnie. Hide somewhere safe, okay? I promise I can take care of this. So not the drama, right?"

Ronnie takes every word Jim says as if they are worthy of being engraved into stone, so she does what she's asked to — for a hot second.

See, Monkey Fist winds up having superpowers and Ronnie cannot just hide and cower while her new best friend gets the tar kicked out of her.

Blue light rises like smoke off of Monkey Fist's body, his eyes stone cold and icy. He moves with the agility of someone far smaller, and with all four of his freakish limbs whirring through combat it's impossible to tell what he's even doing. Apparently, the power comes from these Jade Idols, one of which they retrieved for him.

Which is just great; they do the guy a solid and now he's beating them up using his "ALL-POWERFUL MONKEY POWER THAT WILL MAKE ME HEIR TO THE MONKEY THRONE! OOO-OOO-AAAH-AAAAH!" (These are exact quotations.)

One particularly packed punch nails Jim in the face and he tumbles to the floor, totally disheveled. Monkey Fist takes one slow step forward and chuckles darkly. So Ronnie does what any friend would do (she thinks), and gets in the way.

"Get back," Ronnie rasps, arms spread wide, nose to the air.

"Ronnie, what are you doing?" Jim hisses, heart suddenly racing. He doesn't care about the bruises and blood; he's a champ, he can take the heat. But Ronnie's new to this. Ronnie didn't know that it sometimes can be this bad, and Jim curses himself for allowing this! How could be so stupid? And thoughtless! No. Never again.

Monkey Fist snorts blue embers and stares right through Ronnie. "Please explain to me what the _sidekick _is doing."

Jim sneers, "Ronnie's my _partner, _please and thank you."

Ronnie is flattered, but quickly regains her composure. "If you're such a gentleman, Lord Fiske, then I'm sure you're already familiar with the rule that it's _not _okay to hit girls!"

Monkey Fist blinks. "Wait." Raises a finger and then bites onto it. "Erm." His hand opens, but sort of flutters off. "I — ahem." He fake coughs into his big honkin' paw and bows into the motion, thumb rolled over his nose. He looks up. "I thought you were a boy."

Ronnie's face gets so red that it makes Rufus look white. She runs a hand through her buzzcut and tries to laugh it off. But Jim catches the familiarity; he got that a lot as a kid. Back before puberty was a thing, and Jim blushed when people called him a girl because he _liked_ the mistake. He felt _comfortable_ with the mistake.

Maybe this is why he wants Ronnie to be here with him. But it's still not worth her life.

He gets back to his feet and takes Ronnie's hand with both of his, eying Monkey Fist with scary determination. Ronnie's blush fades, just living in the tip of her ears now.

"I will admit though," Monkey Fist sighs. "That does put a damper on things. Perhaps I should consult my ethics for a moment."

"Awesome, five minute time out?" Ronnie offers.

Monkey Fist considers this and then drawls, "Of course."

Very quickly, Ronnie throws her arm over Jim's shoulders and ducks them into a huddle. "Okay, so I got a plan, JP You're going to rush over to the Jade Idols and become endowed with Mystical Monkey Power!"

Jim blinks. "Are you sure it's actually called that?"

"What?"

"The blue stuff — Mystical Monkey Power?"

"Yeah, what else would it be called?" Ronnie asks. "But see, if you juice up, you can do an ol' smackdown in my town!"

Jim looks back at Monkey Fist who is rapping his big foot against the ground like a rabbit. He hems and haws, and it's kind of a relief that he's actually thinking about _ethics_ of all things.

"Good call on playing up the gentleman part of his personality by the way. I wouldn't have thought of that," Jim notes before he forgets, squeezing Ronnie's hand. They look into each other's eyes for just a tad too long and —

"Mystical — Monkey — Power, HUT HUT!" Jim shouts and suddenly charges across the stone tile, dragging Ronnie along with him. Ronnie screams in a shrill voice and Monkey Fist does too — because he's been bamboozled!

"JP! NO! I MEANT _YOU_ GET THE POWER, I DON'T WANT — "

"FINE! GO RUN YOU BRATS! TALKING TO ME ABOUT _ETHICS_ — PSHAW!"

Jim ignores Ronnie and actually whirls them off their feet, catching them by both hands and very delicately dropping them into the center mosaic. Blue light blasts between the cracks in stone, quickly expanding to envelope them. Their clothes flutter and it feels so — clean. Like drying off after a hot bath.

Rays of sapphire orbit around their bodies, beholden to the connection they now share. Jim leans back into a classic fighting stance and Ronnie does the same, but accidentally trips and resorts to breakdancing to play it off real cool.

Monkey Fist stifles a laugh. "You little fools. You should have gone in separately, because you just went _splitsies_ on one helping of THE ALL-POWERFUL MONKEY POWER THAT WILL GRANT ME, NOT YOU, _ME_! THE CROWN TO THE MONKEY KING THRONE — "

"Tsch, talk about a mouthful," Jim interrupts, nudging Ronnie with his elbow.

Ronnie nods. Same page. "Um yeah dude — _we_ have just been calling it _Mystical Monkey Power_."

"No, that's a stupid name," Monkey Fist pouts. "I'm the educated one so — "

Ronnie crosses her arms. "Well our people already set a meeting with the encyclopedia guys!"

Monkey Fist yelps from pure fear. "You did _NOT!_"

Jim's impressed; Ronnie's really good at being a distraction so he can — as Ronnie puts it — lay down a smackdown in my town. While Monkey Fist froths at the mouth, Jim leaps ahead and tackles the looney to the ground, hands flattening against the man's gaunt face. His legs swing over his body and he lands perfectly upright after the roll. Usually these kind of — cheerleader-esque moves — come kind of hard to him, but with that sweet Mystical Monkey Power, he's cruisin' to deliver a bruisin'.

Monkey Fist gnashes his teeth and snaps one arm out, a line of blue jettisoning from his fingers and cleaving into the floor.

Massive stones kick up and rumble under Jim's feet and then the boy does something incredible. Ronnie actually forgets this is real life for a moment and feels a tremendous urge to snag some popcorn real quick.

The first stone that hurdles at Jim becomes a platform. He plants both feet on it and scrunches in like riding a wave, and clings to the throttling chunk against all odds. There's a brief window where he can jump from one rock to another and he sticks the landing so seamlessly. Another jump and kick, and he just keeps getting higher and higher. Monkey Fist himself is mesmerized by this showcase of Olympic level gymnastics. This of course leaves him open for a dropkick.

_Boom!_

Ronnie's doing her best golf clap and fails to notice the blue whip still sweeping through the room like a clock hand. It stings when it smacks her, a clean cut trailing across her ankle. Crimson spills out and immediately Jim's heart starts pounding.

Nonononono. Not Ronnie. Please no.

Meanwhile, Ronnie yelps and in her rage, conjures a small burst of blue in her palm. She looks at it carefully and christens it to be the Mystical Monkey Pellet.™ She shows Monkey Fist her best fast ball and the pellet nails the scoundrel in the nose. His face scrunches in from discomfort.

Ronnie looks to Jim who is — panicking? Huh? Weird. But she nods, and Jim takes a few seconds to come to his senses, and he nods back.

Ronnie hops up and down like a monkey, scratching her armpit and her head at the same time, occasionally hurtling Mystical Monkey Pellets™ at the evil archaeologist, all the while screaming classic monkey jibber jabber.

Monkey Fist doesn't care for this very much. "Please don't — _ow!_ — you must desis— _ow! _ Stop it! That's — _ooh!_ — annoying! So uncivilized — _ah_!"

Jim flips high into the air, legs whirling over their head and swings them right into Monkey Fist's chest and that's the game. Boom. He cuffs him to a small statuette fast and then rushes over to Ronnie for a high five, but ends up getting deadfished.

Ronnie's too busy staring at her open palms. "I have become that which I fought against," she soliloquies.

It catches Jim so off-guard that his laugh actually _startles_ Ronnie from sheer volume. Jim very quickly wraps his arms around Ronnie and pulls him in tight to the chest. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...wow, you're really affectionate, huh?"

Jim bites his lip and pulls back. He _doesn't_ hug. Except for maybe girl friends. "Sorry, just um, got excited. Should have asked, are you okay with hugs?"

Ronnie thinks about it. "Not used to 'em but it's okay I think. Thanks."

Jim hugs her again. Ronnie, you were amazing."

Ronnie shakes her head furiously, "Me?! What? No! That was all you JP, hey let me try something."

"Okay."

Jim looks up and quickly their vision blots out in darkness. He panics for a second because he doesn't like the dark but — it's just Ronnie's hand. It's okay. It's warm. He then feels that familiar clean sensation the magic initially sparked. When Ronnie removes her hand, Jim's shiner is gone. All the cuts and bruises — gone. Clean slate.

Jim can't see it but he _feels_ the change. "How did you know you could — ?"

"Lucky guess, um — " Ronnie stutters as Jim clamps his hand around her ankle. It kinda tickles. Jim tries his hardest but it doesn't seem to work. " — maybe because we went _splitsies_, I like — became a cleric and you became a warrior. Hm. Or maaaaaaaaaybe a ranger."

Jim raises an eyebrow.

"Um — I dungeoneer. Sometimes," she spits out. "Um. So now what?"

"Well...I wanted to talk, actually."

"Oh no, did I mess up?"

"No! Ronnie, no no no. You were amazing. Seriously." Jim chews the inside of his cheek. "I just think — you don't deserve to get beaten up, like you're my friend and I want you to be safe and...I'm really sorry, I just don't think this is a good idea."

"Huh? Oh. I'm fired?"

"Um. I — guess, well….no. I mean, we're still friends and like...maybe when I have free time we could hang out and I could teach you some stuff? I — "

Ronnie turns away and brushes him off. "I get it. No. I mean, yeah. It's cool, JP. It's just — um — if it's okay for me to say — I don't like getting beat up, but I really don't like the idea of _you _getting beat up. You're such a good person to be doing this, and like if you were alone that might have gotten really bad. I know I'm a liability but — me and Rufus want to help."

"Rufus?" Jim asks. "Wait — where is Rufus?"

"Oh he beat up the butler guy."

"He did wha—"

"Yup yup!" Rufus chirps, leaning over a banister high up. He slips through the gap and falls into Ronnie's waiting hands, quickly reenacting the breathtaking fight scene he engaged in.

It's a really hard thing to say no to.

"Shoot," Jim kicks at nothing in particular. "Um. Okay, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm just — you're serious? You went through all of that and you still want to tag alone?

"Of course JP. I got your back."

Something squeezes Jim's throat and he has to take a second to collect himself. What is going on with him? "That's — I got yours too. Um. I promise you it's not always like this."

"Like superpowers and stuff?" Ronnie frowns.

"No — um — there's this woman who's got these powers — um. Y'know what? Shoot, it is always like this."

"Dang," Ronnie isn't sure how to react. She's scared but should she tell Jim that? No way. Jim's all about that _so not the drama _scene. Except for that one moment where he was low key freaking out, but maybe she shouldn't press her luck right now. "Badical."

Jim smiles and struts past the two newest members of Team Possible. "I guess if we break the Idols, it'll take away the — um, what did he call it?" He winks at Ronnie, drawling, "_The All Powerful Monkey Magic that will grant Monkey Fist — not us — Monkey Fist! The Crown to the Monkey King Throne!_"

As Jim tilts one Jade Idol off the pedestal, Ronnie rushes forward and miraculously catches the fragile thing with her foot. She cranes up to Jim. "I — um — this is embarrassing. But what if — what if we _kept _the powers?"

"Ronnie...I want to say yes but— " Jim looks over to Monkey Fist cautiously. " — it would be ferociously unethical."

Ronnie's head flops over. "Aw man."

She rubs her neck and gets back up, handing the idol back to Jim.

Jim's never been great at reading people; he misses a lot of jokes because he's so caught up in — well — all of this. But he decides to take a stab at it. He wants to be a team player so he gives Ronnie a long, hard stare. His eyes light up when he catches what's going on.

"Amp down, Ronnie. I'm serious. I'll be training you. You won't need the monkey juice, I freak fight bad guys with powers all the time."

This seems to help a bit. Ronnie nods. "Okay, JP. You're right." Still a little off.

Jim smiles. "Ah geez. Ronnie...listen to me right now. I know kids at school call you a slacker all the time but that — that was _so_ good. I mean you just — you saved my life. You thought of things and did things I'd _never_ in a million years even think of. And guess what? We just saved the world today."

"Did we?" Ronnie rubs her face. "Is that what the Monkey King thing is about?"

"Hm…" Jim spins the idol around on his finger. "Well I'm guessing step two of his master plan was to conquer the world."

Jim drops the idol. Their skin crawls as everything shifts with the exit of the powers, and when they pass, they each feel a lot heavier. A lot more grounded. Jim puts a hand on Ronnie's shoulders. "We saved the world _and_ had fun doing it, which is — " he sighs. "I haven't had _fun_ doing this since like middle school." The moment lingers for a second, and Ronnie wonders if she should hug him or something but before she can make up her mind, the hard lines in Jim's face soften. "We'll do it again tomorrow. You, me, and Rufus."

Ronnie grins and puts her hand in. Jim does too, and Rufus last second jumps on top of their hands, and hurtles into the air when they throw their hands up.

"You, me and Rufus," Ronnie repeats.

* * *

**A/N:** _Thank you so much for reading! _

_Just to be clear, Ronnie is not retaining Mystical Monkey Power._

_I am planning on doing about twelve chapters, each story being a retelling of something from the show. Some chapters will be really fun, some will be a bit fluffier, and a couple are going to dig into some really complicated things about transitioning. Next up is Mind Games, which as you can guess, will be complicated haha._


	3. Mind Games

Auburn hair. Spiky. Buzzed on the neck.

Rose-tinted skin with rounded cheeks.

Emerald eyes hovering above stress lines, bushy eyebrows.

Strong jaw.

* * *

_Is that really what I look like?_

_...I look so uncomfortable._

* * *

Sunny blonde hair, cropped short, revealing flappy ears.

Pale skin on a long face.

Brown eyes, hovering above dashes of freckles.

Round, undefinable jaw.

* * *

_Is that really how I look?_

_No, that can't be it. I look tougher than that._

* * *

"Wait, did they clone me?!"

they both say,

But Jim's voice comes out high.

But Ronnie's voice comes out low.

* * *

Something's wrong.

* * *

Jim slaps his hands to his chest and feels — fat? — fat in the way. He can't reach his chest — no. Breasts? They're — oh no.

His hands slide down his hips and push deep into baggy cargo pants, rubbing up against hips — like — like — a girl's. But — but — oh dear. His hands smack across his flesh. Flabby tummy, skinny arms, smooth jaw, and —

The naked mole rat in his pocket confirms it.

* * *

Ronnie instinctively goes for her chest, and instead finds her fingers pressing into taut muscle. She's been on a few missions with Jim now but she's not that —

She grabs her biceps and it's like touching leather. Her hands slip down her sides and they just shoot straight down. No hips. The pants don't leave much to the imagination either; these are also tough as nails.

She's kinda panicking. She runs a hand through her hair, but instead of the tiny buzz cut hairs prickling her palm, the hand gets caught in a cowlick of — red?!

* * *

Jim is speechless. He can't think. His heart's beating really fast. He looks next to him to find Ronnie standing in _his_ body — telling Shego off. But it doesn't seem real. Like this is a nightmare, right?

"Is this a mind swap machine or something?!" Ronnie shrieks before Shego nails her in the stomach, and she crumples against the floor.

Sweat builds up on Jim's forehead. His eyes go wide and look to Shego. He crouches down and backs away. Shego smirks and just gets closer, shadow trailing higher along the wall. "Aw. Princie doesn't like being a girl, does he?"

Jim falls over, arms over his face. He can't do this. No. Not now. Not when he's working. This ugly, awful thing that's always in his mind. This perversion, god, he needs to talk to Ronnie, apologize to her, it's not okay that he — he —

"So if it's a Mind Swap machine, who are you?!"

Somehow Ronnie is the more collected of the two.

Shego flips her hair over her head. "Shego. Duh."

"Huh, well if you're Shego, then — " Ronnie scans the room for that pencil thin Private Dobbs guy. " — who's _that_ guy?"

"Huh?" Shego checks her shoulder. "Ahhhh. Yeah, that's Drakken."

"Oooooooooooooooh," Ronnie scratches her chin. "Makes sense."

Jim still can't get up. But Ronnie needs him. Needs him to fight back, but he can't. He's — he doesn't know what's wrong with him —

— so Shego and Drakken get away.

* * *

Usually their ride drops them off at their respective houses, but today is different. They get dropped off near the Bueno Nacho and before Ronnie can even blow up in excitement over massive amounts of cheese, Jim wanders in without saying a thing.

By the time Ronnie recovers from Jim's awkweirdness and steps in, Jim's already at their usual booth, Naco in hand, dripping with oil. But Jim always gets a salad.

As much as Ronnie wants a Naco for herself, she knows this is important so she takes a seat despite Rufus' whining.

"Do you want to talk about it, JP?"

Jim looks up and frowns, trying to shrug it off. "Weird science things happen all the time I guess."

That's a bold-faced lie if she's ever seen one. "Jim… something's up. It's okay. You can tell me."

Jim makes eye contact very intentionally. "Are _you _okay?"

"Yeah, I mean — your body's pretty comfy. Sorry I wasted it and didn't fight Shego — "

" — you didn't waste it — "

" — but Jim, I'm worried about you. You were like hyperventilating back there and it's not like it's the first time I've seen you — "

" — Ronnie, can we talk about this when we're back to normal? Please?"

"No JP, I'm serious. Something's going on with you and no matter what it is, I'm cool with it because we're friends. But we have to talk about it first — "

" — I'm fine, just overwhelmed. We need to find out where Drakken and Shego are — "

" — Jim, stop ignoring me, you know that I lo— "

"Ned! Can I get a to-go box?"

* * *

Ronnie would usually have to jog to catch up with Jim in this kinda sitch, but she's in a far more athletic body with longer legs so it's really not an issue. She cuts in front of Jim and stares her down. This is really scary now. She's regretting that she said anything.

"Jim. We'll figure the brain switch out tomorrow. But can we please talk about _it_ tonight?"

Jim pinches the bridge of his nose. "You said you're comfortable in my body?"

Ronnie pales a shade. "Yeah," she rasps. "You take good care of yourself."

"Thank you," Jim nods. "But please understand that you're probably more comfortable in my body than I am."

Oh.

It kinda feels like being slapped. They don't see each other until the next morning.

* * *

Jim is very clear when he says he doesn't want anyone to know about this, including Wade. So he stays with the Stoppables. It feels very strange swinging by his own parent's home the next day to pick up Ronnie. Mom and Dad wind up inviting him in and he gobbles down some breakfast.

Ronnie's jaw drops when she comes down the stairs and begins sputtering. Jim has to stride over and clamp the girl's jaw shut with his own two hands, and takes it upstairs.

"JP," Ronnie whispers cautiously once seated on Jim's bed. "I thought you said _low profile?_"

"Huh?"

Jim turns in the mirror and quickly catches what Ronnie's talking about. It's a sleeveless, baby blue and pastel pink striped dress. Decked out in gaudy jewelry, aside from the clip-on earrings, and smacked in ruby red lipstick and blue eyeshadow, he looks like a girl Ronnie's never been.

"Haven't you noticed I don't dress like that?" Ronnie leers. "Wait — did you just _want_ to wear all that? Because that's okay, Ji—"

"No no!" Jim throws his hands up. "I — I — I dunno what I thought! Sorry, I — I guess I don't know what girls are like, heh heh. Me and my — uh — heteronormative brain."

Ronnie crosses her arms. _Heteronormative?_ Jim said _Heteronormative?_ That's totally worth a callout, but she holds it back because it's not cool to attack her best friend like that. Something's going on and whatever it is, it'll play out organically.

"Well, um, too late to change now," Jim blushes, already knowing to cross his legs when he sits on the bed. His voice, or rather Ronnie's, sounds so weird coming from Jim's mouth. Higher actually. Maybe that's how she normally sounds… "Can we go over my schedule for today?"

"Yeah — um — yeah," Ronnie stutters. "Wait, what do you mean?"

Both of Jim's eyebrows shoot up. "Well — football practice, environment club, yearbook club, I have a test in Geometry...do we have drama today?"

Ronnie nods along until she realizes Jim asked a question. "Oh! Um. Yeah. So I guess we'll have to swippy swap parts, huh?"

"Yeah," Jim grunts as if he wants to say more, but he bites his tongue. "Hey. Um. Ronnie. I have a question for you. It's kinda personal, you don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable…"

"Um...yeah, JP. Shoot, I'm an open book."

"Do you pitch your voice down?"

Ronnie's mouth opens wide and instead of a _Yes_ she just sighs. She snaps back with another question, "Do you pitch yours_ up_?"

* * *

Jim feels antsy; he's living on borrowed time and has no idea what to do with it. While Ronnie masquerades as the Presidents of many extracurriculars and wiles away her time jumping from club to club to club after school, Jim has nothing on his plate.

He tries doing Ronnie's homework but when he turns a page expecting more math problems, he finds it blank. He leafs through the packet to make sure he got everything and sure enough — he did. It's because Ronnie only takes college prep level courses.

He spends a minute in the grass, letting his bare legs stretch out over the green. It tickles the skin. Checking to make sure no one is looking, he leans in, running his hands across the naked skin and smiles. It's so smooth. It makes him feel alive.

Poor Ronnie. Trapped in not just a boy's body, but a busy boy's. The least Jim can offer is doing Ronnie's homework too, so he ventures back into the school, letting his hips sway because he knows it won't look weird, and finds his locker.

His hand stays on the lock without moving for a long time. He knows the combination, he should just turn it. He just doesn't want to. What if he did something else? Had some fun? Walked around in the sun? Might be nice! He's always wanted to try that. Just marinating...like Ronnie says.

No. That's wrong. Ronnie's depending on him to do this. Girl's not used to this much responsibility. He needs to help her. Especially after all she's done for him.

So he opens the locker and is quickly greeted by Wade, both of them yelping from surprise.

"Oh hey Ronnie," Wade recovers fast. "Hey, wait. Where's Jim? Have you seen him? I've been beeping him all day."

"Uh…nope. Just Ronnie." Jim drawls, remembering that Ronnie pitches her voice down. "What's the sitch, Wade?"

Wade raises an eyebrow; apparently Ronnie's voice is _so_ clashing with Jim's usual colloquialisms. "There's been a security breach at Private Dobbs' post! Something's been stolen! Something big, something top secret."

Jim wants to say that he remembered all of that because he usually does. Maybe it's something that's wired into Ronnie's brain, something that makes it harder to pay attention.

"Okay, just keep me — uh — Jim, posted. Thanks… dude?"

Wade's eyebrow goes really high and after a flicker, he's gone.

Security — Dobbs — stolen — big — secret?

Okay.

Not like he can do anything about it. He can't even think straight right now. His head is pounding, mind flooded with one naughty thought that he can't buck off.

Jim hasn't seen his new body yet; he closed his eyes when he dressed himself this morning. But he really wants to see it and potentially even _feel_ it. But is that assault? Not really?

What if he asks Ronnie and she starts to think Jim is some kind of pervert?

He texts Ronnie anyways. He has to. Though he keeps the text brief. It's just like _is it cool if i take a shower?_

Jim paces around in so many circles while waiting for the text, it's not a wonder he kicked up enough dirt to make a trench like Scrooge McDuck did in his Worry Room.

Eventually the message comes: _yeah that's cool. my body probs smells real bad sry_

Suddenly everything that's been so rotten about this sitch from the start begins to heal.

* * *

It's strange being in the girl's locker room. Everytime he has crossed the gender divided signs, his mind has lingered on that tree-shaped pink icon. Today, he doesn't have to linger, he can just go in. Cross the precipice.

It's so quiet in here. Really, no different from the men's locker room. But Jim figured that; he's no fool after all.

The first problem hits in that he's not sure which locker is actually Ronnie's. Obviously, they're unmarked. So after some hesitation, Jim selects an arbitrary locker that at least seems unused and strips fast. For Ronnie's sake, and maybe his own too, he leaves the underwear on.

The musty cold air hits his mostly exposed body and this suddenly feels very real. This is his skin sprouting into goosebumps, not Ronnie's. No matter what happens to this body for the time being, he is the one in control. Jim scoops up a towel, holding it protectively over his chest, a little nervous.

It's not the girls he's worried about really. His finger snaps against the bra strap and he wonders if he should just go all the way with this. But when he looks in the mirror, the underwear acts sort of like sunglasses, defending him from the brunt of the vision. But on the same token — Ronnie's bod does actually smell bad. So maybe he should —

— whoa, is that Bonnie?

That makes sense actually. Obviously Bonnie would be back here. In the buff though? That's a lot. She's followed by her usual posse of girls, but none of them are as stripped down as the Queen Bee. It's like a weird power move.

Jim barely catches himself doing it, but he slips out of the underwear because he is so _not_ about the dumb food chain stuff. Like Bonnie's only dating Brick because he's the most powerful guy in school — not because he's a charmer (which Brick isn't, he's kind of a douche).

Jim slips by before anyone from the posse can see him; he is not down to deal with that right now. He just wants to take a shower — and maybe possibly hopefully have a self-actualization moment to clarify all of his dysphoria.

"Hey, um," a bubbly voice sighs, a small hand falling on Jim's shoulders. He turns and sees Tara, that blond cheerleader, looking at him with wide eyes desperately trying to look at _only_ his eyes. "The showers are the other way, that's where — um…"

Oooh, that makes sense. Apparently the girl's room is an inverse of the boy's.

"You just _had_ to ruin it, Tara," Bonnie drawls from around the corner, stepping out with a towel wrapped around her body, another towel elegantly twisted 'round her air. She pinches her fingers into a razor which she dips down for Ronnie to snatch. "I was really looking forward to Bigfoot rearing her ugly head to the school…"

Jim's big toe wedges itself into his calves, running up and down the skin and truthfully not finding any hairs

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "_Above_ the knees, loser. And by the way, I thought I told you not to come back here."

It wasn't a question. Jim's face flushes, less so from fear and more so from anger. Is this how people really treated his best friend? Because that is not okay. If Ronnie had just told him sooner he would have… no, that's wrong. He isn't really sure how to respond to this, but bite his tongue and stay quiet.

He almost snatches the razor from Bonnie, but leaves her with it; it's Ronnie's body after all. Jim can't do that to her, they probably leave their thighs a little hairy for good reason. So Jim continues on and finds the showers.

Jim's never actually used the school showers, and the most he's ever stripped down to are boxers, so this is all new to him. He shuffles into a stall and takes a deep breath.

She's okay. She'll be okay.

_She?_

That — feels alright… she likes being in here. It feels normal, despite the harassment. Almost like destiny or something. She always thought that if she were to go into one of those formerly forbidden feminine zones, that she'd be disappointed by the reality but in fact, she feels _alive_. She moves and it feels like her movement's, not a zombie's.

So maybe she'll go with _she_ for now. It might be better to embrace the strangeness. That one word sort of assembles the pieces together, though it could also just be a trick of the puzzle. Like it _seems_ like it's supposed to go here but it doesn't _actually_ fit. There's always a lot of possibilities, right?

So Jim washes herself. It's so strange, so alien. She keeps expecting her hands to land on rippling muscles, but they swat through the air longer and land harder.

It's like her old body melted away into this. Like a caterpillar or something. Though this body does need some finessing. Like a better diet and workout regime, but it's enough for her to _work_.

But that's not right. She can't live like this. No matter how entitled she feels to this body, it's her best friend's and she'll have to return it soon.

The curtains tears off the rod, the rod itself thrusting out of the stall and clattering to the floor loudly. Jim turns around and yelps, shrinking back as the shadow of the domineering Bonnie Rockwaller trails over her.

"Hey! Leave me alone!" Jim shouts back, trying to keep Ronnie's voice as low as it usually is. "I'm part of the team! I'm like your hype man!"

Bonnie rolls her eyes and slips into the stall with her, now in uniform, her arm draping over Jim's shoulder. The luke warm waters rush over Bonnie's head, dragging her bob-cut along the sharp curves of her cheeks. Bonnie's eyebrows arch seductively, the wear and tear of the movement rippling her normally very smooth forehead. They make for harsh lines on this girl. Like she's some sort of witch in hiding, casting a spell over Jim that sparks a fire in her loins

— is this because Ronnie likes girls?

— is this what is natural for this body?

— or has she just never had a chance to feel this way before?

The water turns off, Bonnie's forearm gently rolling against Jim's shoulder when she twists the knob off. Before Jim can say anything, Bonnie gets closer and backs Jim against the ceramic wall. "Why are you back here, loser?" The words glide from her lips into Jim's. They are so close. Jim sweats even though the sudden change in temperature gives her goosebumps.

Jim gulps. "I — I — I just want to take a shower." She hesitates. Something comes to mind. Something that she actually hadn't been thinking about, but now suddenly makes sense. "I want to try out for the team."

"Oh," Bonnie purrs. "Are you _sure_ that's all you want?"

Yeesh.

It's kind of like a bad porno.

… no.

It's _definitely _like a bad porno.

"Fair warning," Jim slips out before things get anymore intense, her own voice hitting that soft tremor. What would Ronnie say? Ugh. How would Ronnie joke her way out of — got it. "I spit toothpaste froth out of this mouth fo you guys every day."

The two girls kiss anyways.

Well — she tried?

It's not that rough or anything, definitely nothing more than a kiss, although Jim's back does spin into the soap bottles, knocking them onto the floor — and, well, a lot happens. It's kind of a mess.

Everything keeps blurring. Jim's always been attracted to both girls and boys (though it takes kissing a girl for her to admit that), but something always held her back. Because she knew something was _different_ about her and even if she did open up to someone, that _difference_ had an inevitable conclusion.

In that Jim has been a girl this whole time. No one would be okay with that. Even Ronnie.

But standing across Bonnie who thinks she is — no — who _knows_ she is a girl?

It's like a dream come true. Though Jim has to admit she has no idea what Bonnie's motive is here.

When Bonnie pulls her rose scented lips away, panting, her normally malicious eyes droop down, unable to meet Jim's.

"Can I try out for the team now?" Jim says in a steady voice, trying very hard to not give into panting like Bonnie is. "I can do way more than spit toothpaste suds all over the place. I've been doing all these crazy missions with Jim Possible — " Weird saying her own name out loud like that. " — like I beat up a Monkey King guy and I want to — "

"Ugh fine," Bonnie clips, getting up and stealing Jim's towel away. "You're overselling. Meet me outside."

* * *

Ronnie doesn't really get why Jim is on the football team. Like this Brick Flagg guy is kind of a jerk. The other guys too, but mostly Brick. Everytime Brick struts past Ronnie from behind, shivers splinter up her spine and twitch her whole head so it knocks into her shoulder.

Like — Jim is so sweet and nice and tender and — this — this just isn't?

Ronnie also gets yelled at a few times. She figured that after a few months of spitting toothpaste froth everywhere to cheer on the Mad Dogs, that she might actually have an idea as to how you actually play football. Turns out she's clueless.

Everytime she catches the ball — or rather, just sort of happens upon it (she doesn't know how to catch) — she just _runs._ The direction doesn't really matter, she just goes for it.

It's kind of fun though actually. Her knees bob up and down, striking these neat parallel angles to the ground. Her arms pump along with the same kind of bounce, though these arms are way tougher than her silly noodle arms that are really only good at flailing.

Everytime her boots smash into the grass, and dirt kicks up in little plumes from the impact, she wants to scream _"BOOYAH!"_ but if she did that everytime her voice would get really hoarse.

Apparently Jim's role on the team is to like tackle people and stuff but that seems _so_ out of character for Jim. Dude won't even tackle Drakken. He's like one of those pacificistic warriors or whatever. Like Batman.

Huh. Jim is kinda a moody, brooder guy. Does that make Ronnie Robin? And Wade is like Alfred? And… Rufus is Ace the Bat-Hound? Whoa. Talk about a head canon, Ronnie's most def gonna draw some fanart of this when she gets home and —

— aw man, everyone's yelling at her again.

Whoa! Holy shit!

Brick just like scooped her up and threw her into the air! What's that about? Please no! Ronnie's not ready to get sent to Heaven and —

— everyone catches her. One boy for each of Jim's well-oiled appendages. Apparently Ronnie just recovered the bad guy's ball and dashed across the whole football field, moving so fast that no one was able to stop her. Weird. She was too busy thinking about Batman and — oh, ya know? Brick would be such a Killer Croc.

Hm.

Oh whoa!

Now Ronnie's on her own team! Like literally everyone else is against her, what's that about? Like one on ten?

Um — what would Jim say? _So not the drama?_

Gosh, who talks like that? That's such a girly thing to say! Like, Ronnie's a girl and she doesn't even — well — Ronnie never really says things other girls do anyways — oh shit!

Brick just ate shit! He like dive tackled at Ronnie and she set the brakes on, and stopped just short of Brick planting his face into the turf!

She kinda wants to make sure the big lunk is okay but you know what? Screw that noise! Ronnie wants to run! So she vaults over Brick's prone body and hits the grass at a sprint so fast that you might just blink and miss it.

The play ends up being a fluke — everyone is to amazed by how fast Ronnie is that they don't even bother.

Next round they actually try. It's getting kinda crazy. Like these guys keep throwing themselves at her and she just swerves around them, banging out figure eights and all these other wacky shapes to throw the boys off. Not to mention she's got _endurance_.

Forrest Gump eat your heart out.

Dang!

Who would have thought? Football is like actually super fun!

Maybe she should talk to Jim after this — they could like swippy swap their roles after the official body swippy swap. Jim could be a cheerleader and Ronnie could even be on the football team…

She wants to laugh because like — a _boy?_ On the _cheerleading team?_ Or get this! Get this… a _girl_ roughhousing with the _football guys_. Right?!

… right. Not actually that funny, huh?

Because Ronnie ain't no girl. No way.

When his legs hit the peak of their arc, this pressure builds against his groin from the movement, and he feels every single fraction of his body pull against itself to make this dash work so fluidly. Whenever he ran before, in his _girl_ body, he felt like — just like really light? Like weightless! Like he wasn't even real!

That might just be disassociating though. Ronnie disassociates all the time. Like um — you ever see _Vertigo?_ When the camera zooms in while also pulling back? Yeah! Like that!

But Ronnie hasn't felt anything like that since the Big Honkin' Switch with Jim. He's felt at home.

He really would prefer to just be like _Eh, it's just 'cause Jim's ripped and actually takes cares of his body_ but nope nope, mama didn't raise no fool, it's because Ronnie's been a _boy_ this whole time.

Whoopseedoodle!

Ah fuck. Ronnie's a boy. Like definitely absolutely no ifs or buts. What's he supposed to tell Jim? Like _hey man, could I keep your body? _Ugh.

Ugh!

"_**Ow!"**_

Ronnie trips and someone steals the ball from him. Finally, kinda bound to happen after like eighteen touchdowns in a row, but — ugh. He kinda just lays there. Maybe if he lays against the ground long enough, his problems will go away. Kinda like an ostrich.

But then someone blows the whistle. _Barkin_. Ronnie's gotta make sure to not accidentally send a funny look Barkin's way so that Barkin doesn't suddenly develop a bad relationship with Jim too…

Oh whoa, Ronnie's never seen Brick this upset before. He like storms off. Apparently Veronica Stoppable is auditioning to be a cheerlead… wait! Veronica Stoppable! That's her! Him! Uh… whatever!

Ronnie tails after Brick because seeing this go down feels really important at the moment.

* * *

Jim exits the locker room, clad in a bona fide cheer uniform that actually makes her feel a little self-conscious. Like she kinda wishes that Ronnie dressed up more like this but um — she doesn't want to overthink it either.

Brick and Bonnie are arguing over something. Neither look at her, but Brick does jab a toilet paper tube sized finger at her. He says something about how his boys on the team _need_ someone spitting toothpaste studs all over the place, or else they won't be properly motivated. Jim tries not to pay attention to it, while she sort of runs over some mental notes on how she wants to perform — which is when she makes eye contact with Ronnie.

Whoa, Ronnie's like covered in sweat. She is too… but for different reasons that maybe she shoudn't mention to Ronnie but — agh, this is like actually _so_ the drama.

But Bonnie defends her, at least long enough for her to get to the middle of the gymnasium. No one seems to be willing to pop in some tunes for the unassuming Veronica Stoppable, but that's cool. Jim _knows_ how to cheer. She's been watching the girls do it from the frontlines for a year and a half now.

She starts off with a somersault, flipping onto her hands, and then springing back up and spinning a full rotation, landing back on her hands again anyways. To keep it in-character, she throws in a "BOOYAH!" and continues on.

Jim's first gig as _the_ Jim Possible was supposed to be a rescue mission for this wealthy billionaire. Dude got himself stuck in his own security system like a total chump. So she tried to do her best cheerleader moves to save him (coincidentally, she had tried out for the team that very day, but despite her talent, no one wanted to bring the shrimpy 'boy' with braces onboard) but she goofed up. Hard.

Something to do with all the moves she learned watching all those dance tutorials online weren't meant for someone with her specific center of gravity. She got stuck halfway through the grid and had to wait for Team Impossible to show up. Apparently, the billionaire meant to call them from the very start.

Jimpossible . com didn't take off for another half year after that. Jim enlisted the help of this young hacker, Wade, and had him keep an eye radio frequencies, ranging from police channels to Team Impossible themselves. Whenever something doable flashed past them, Jim would hustle and bike her way down to the scene.

So her first big job was actually a little dramatic. This blue guy, Doctor Drakken, and his henchwoman Shego, almost killed her several times over in one day, but fortunately Ned from Bueno Nacho came in for the save, spitting the Diablo Sauce into the explosive tick lodged onto Jim's face.

(But Ned formerly declined the invitation to join Team Possible, far too committed to his cherished Assistant Manager clip-on tie.)

((Not all heroes wear capes.))

This routine Jim comes up with on the fly — these spins and pirouettes… they give her life. It is all so effortless in this kind of body. It reminds her of how she felt jumping around with endowed with the Mystical Monkey Power, and this is what Ronnie is capable of doing every day?!

She's _definitely_ gonna give Ronnie a hard time next time she catches her goofing off.

She wants this so badly. The wind rushes past her in torrents with every flip, every move, but nothing scares her. She's alive.

For the first time in her life, she's using her physical prowess to have _fun_ and just imagine what it would be like to go toe-to-toe with Shego when she can move like _this_.

She nails the audition. Even a slack-jawed Brick Flagg admits it. But she doesn't take the part just yet. That's up to Ronnie. After all, he might be content spitting toothpaste froth every—_he?_

Oh.

That makes sense.

Maybe.

She needs to talk to Ronnie.

* * *

They don't talk about it.

Missions continue as usual. Wade can't seem to get a lock on Drakken and Shego, but other villains are up to no good and continue their usual shenanigans. It's bizarre doing missions like this because Ronnie already felt like she wasn't contributing anything, and now even more so. Jim cleans house every time, somersaulting around like some kind of cheerleader. Ronnie had no idea Jim had it in them to move like them… he wonders if it's like — an adjusting to the new sex thing, or if that body just suits Jim more?

Huh.

No way. Jim's a football player, he wouldn't — whatever. Perish the thought. But Ronnie just kinda hangs out, makes jokes, and occasionally distracts people. All the villains they fight are pretty silly so it's not hard to get them riled up.

This one nut, Frugal Lucre, tries to do something weird with vienna sausage. This one golf guy decides to turn the world into a golf course, that's a whole thing… what else happens…

Oh!

Ronnie accidentally convinces some rich Spanish guy into becoming a super-villain. Totally a bad call on his part.

Yeah, yeah. He's still using _he_. At least in his head. It just clicks.

* * *

"You're really trying to look the part, huh?" Ronnie says snidely.

Jim glances over her shoulder and frowned. The dynamic duo are way high in the sky, a plane taking them across the country to the military base Doctor Drakken is allegedly holed up in. She pivots away from the mirrors and splays her hands out.

"You don't want me to show your stomach? I think it's really cute…"

Ronnie fights off a blush and scratches his neck. The crop top and cargo pants are a really nice look actually, but he can't imagine why Jim is doing all of this. "Hey, can we talk?"

"About?" Jim chirps back, sliding into the leather chair across her friend. She clicks the seatbelt at her waist, thin limbs moving very delicately.

"The body thing," Ronnie looks off to the side. "I know it hasn't been ideal but…"

Jim gulps something down. It kinda has been ideal. Which is super embarrassing. Like she knows in her head that she should be ashamed of herself, but it's been such a guilty pleasure. Everything has felt so right lately. She just _is_, she doesn't even need to try.

"Hey, JP, you okay?" Ronnie says, snapping out of what looked to be an intimate moment.

"Yeah," Jim chokes out. Frowns. Time to face the curtains, she's been ignoring Ronnie outside of missions so she doesn't have to overthink all of this. "Are you mad at me?"

"Huh?" Ronnie's eyebrow goes even higher. "No, dude! Whoa! Ha. I thought you were mad at me!" He wipes a tear from his eye, feet stamping the metal floor. "What a coinkydink."

"Wha—what?" Jim stutters out. "How? Why would I be mad at you?"

"Well, um…" Ronnie falls sullen again, foot pivoting around his ankle. "I've been avoiding you. This is gonna sound weird because you know, I love you and all that…"

Jim's heart smashes his chest so hard that it almost smashes the bones caged around it into dust.

"...but I can't stand looking at you because — um — " Ronnie putters out, heaving in a massive breath.

Jim instinctively reaches over and takes his hand. "Hey," she chides. "You can tell me Ronnie. It's okay."

_Tell me what I'm about to tell you_, she thinks in her head. _Tell me that we're the same. That we can talk about these things_.

Wait. No, that's preposterous. Ronnie's not like her. No one's like her. Jim is just a freak, a weirdo who wants to wear dresses and —

"Whenever I look at your face — uh, _my_ face, I kinda gag," Ronnie says very quickly. As if he already wrote it all down. "I'm — I don't _like_ being a girl."

Ronnie's eyes are too blurred with their own tears to notice that Jim is crying along.

Somehow, Jim keeps her tone crisp and clean. "I mean, everyone _knows _you don't like being a girl, Ronnie. You're a tomboy and — "

"No, not like that, Jim," Ronnie plows his face into both hands, fingers peeling into the thin red hair. "I like being in your body because — " He looks up, lips folded over his teeth. He mouths something and goes back to shaking his head in distress. " — I looked it up online. It's called being _transgender_."

Jim's heart beats like a gong again, but when it strikes the chest it stays that size, squeezing the life out of her. Blood runs cold and her skin goes white.

Transgender. That's what she is. It fits like a glove.

No no. That's not fair.

She can't be transgender. Ronnie's transgender. Don't steal his thunder, this is his moment and —

"What's next?" she blurts out, almost asking more for her own sake than his.

Ronnie blinks back some tears and leers at her, almost as if he didn't catch that. "What do you mean?"

"Like...you're trans," Jim says, the words not too foreign from her mouth. "What do you do? How can I help you? You want to be a boy, right?"

"Um...well…" Ronnie shifts uncomfortably. "The theory is that I already _am_ a boy. You're taking this really cool, thank you. I've been freaking out. I've been rehearsing with Rufus but I don't think he has any concept of how toxic heteronormativity is." He shrugs. "I guess after we swippy swap back into our usual bods, I'll talk to my parents about going on HRT."

"HRT?" she asks, sliding to the edge of her seat.

"Yeah, um, Hormone Replacement Therapy," Ronnie explains. "Are — you're seriously cool with this?"

Until then, Jim feels like she's trying to man the controls to a mechanism far, far away, but now she feels like she's underwater, arms flailing to grab something that won't work. She just stands there like an idiot with a bad case of slackjaw.

Of course she's cool with it! She wants Ronnie to be happy, this is almost the most amazing news she's ever heard — no. It _is_ the most amazing news she's ever heard! Ronnie's going to be so happy, but — but — but — well, she — ugh…

… it's Ronnie's moment.

Not hers.

"Do — do you want me to call you something else?" Jim asks through chattering teeth.

"Huh? Oh, uh, nah, Ronnie's good for now," Ronnie shrugs. "Jim, are you — "

Jim rushes out of the chair and grabs onto Ronnie, plowing his head into her shoulder, another hand splayed across the back of his scalp. She gently massages him and finally he busts into tears.

It's good that he's crying. It means that he can't see her doing the same thing.

"I love you Ronnie. I'll always be here for you."

* * *

What Jim is doing makes no sense, but hey, it's pretty damn cool.

(Also the lair is about to blow up for some reason, so adrenaline is high.)

Something about Ronnie and Jim's combined mannerisms red-flagged Shego, and she made a joke that the two were adjusting to things really well.

Jim wound up losing control and just ripped at the green woman, feet flying over her head. One thing lead to another and now the two of them are ungodly high up in the lair, each kick somehow knocking them higher.

Jim swings her feet down, heels directly hitting Shego's boots. The bones in her calves threaten to waver like harp strings, but she bends her knees back up and kicks down. Meanwhile, Shego spins like a ballerina in an upside down globe, feet rapidly snapping up at Jim.

They kick and kick and kick, and it's like the force repelling Jim off of the awful woman is making some kind of floor for her to skip across and stay airborne. She's never hit this hard before and she doesn't really know why that is.

Why is she saving all of this pent up anger for Shego?

Another strike and green sparks fly off Shego's heels like Jim is some kind of blacksmith. She grits her teeth and keeps hitting, kicks getting more erratic, spinning into a wider circumference. Somehow, Shego keeps up and the green sparks thicken into something so much more dense. The flares lick her ankles and she winces: she cannot let Ronnie's body get hurt.

Her right knee bends so high it almost passes her chest, and with one thunderous _oomph!_ The foot swings down, slips through the green plasma pool, and nails Shego right in the jaw. Blood spills from her teeth and streams through the air. It catches Jim's eye and for a moment, she forgets herself and just soars on. She reaches out to catch it, fingers gently running through the streaks of crimson.

But moments later, Shego's limp body dovetails into the floor, limbs snapping against her frame in an awful roll, Jim landing shortly after. The anger still pumps through her, so when Dr. Drakken, the normal Dr. Drakken (not Private Dobbs, they swapped back at some point), approaches her with his tiny hands curled into a fluster, she doesn't feel that sorry when her foot swings out and hooks Drakken by the throat, knocking him back onto the floor, heel crushing his Adam's Apple.

Ronnie doesn't comment on any of that, but he does take one step back in fear. Trying to distract himself, his hands fidget over the Brain Switch Machine, placing the little bowl onto his head. He scoops up the second one, nearly losing his footing after the lair rocks again.

Who knows how long they have? But it is for certain that this is yet _another_ lair with a self-destruct feature.

Ronnie doesn't say anything, just passes the second bowl over to Jim. Jim catches it —

— and drops it.

"Jim?"

"Let's go," she rasps, trying not to make eye contact. But Ronnie jumps in the way, arms spread. Of course.

"No — what?! Jim! We need to switch! We didn't switch yet!"

She squeezes the bridge of her nose, still avoiding Ronnie's eyes — fuck, _her own eyes_ willing her to stop. "You think I don't know that? Come on! You'll be happier this way, I can deal — okay?"

Ronnie freezes, limp when she brushes by him.

"Is that a dig?" Ronnie squeaks. "Are you — are you mad at me because — I — I thought you said you were cool with it?!"

"I am cool with it!" Jim tries not to stomp, not to snort, not to be mad, not to show any of those typical signs of masculinity. Not to be toxic. "Ronnie, please. You _deserve_ my body more than you…"

She chokes. She can't do it.

Her shoulders hitch up and everything goes tight. Silence aside from the crumbling lair.

"Ronnie. There's something I need to tell you."

"J-Jim?"

She can't move. Can't say the words. It's too hard.

Don't let him see you cry, don't let him feel guilty, don't tell him the _truth_. Because if he knows what's really going on, he might do the same thing.

She does turn though. Does let him see her eyes, see what the fuck it is she's even going through right now, because she hasn't said a damned thing since the start.

She can't keep running from this. She has to face it head on.

Ronnie's eyes fall when he sees the tears. Suddenly, it's like they're in pre-k again. The girly little boy and the tomboy girl staring at each other. They hug and don't talk again for eleven years.

Jim rushes forward, scoops the bowl off the floor and over her head, wraps her arms around Ronnie's shoulder and nods to Rufus, who hits the switch.

She blinks, and when the light comes back to her she's looking at Ronnie, not her own face anymore. They're back in their old bodies.

"Jim," Ronnie sniffles. "We — we gotta go, gotta save Drakken and Shego and…"

"Ronnie," Jim almost _begs_ in that one word.

"...before the whole place goes up and — what? What is it JP?"

"I'm trans too."


	4. Kimitation Nation

It's awkward now.

Jim regrets telling Ron the truth. She feels like she stole something from him, and _yeah_, he goes by Ron now. He's just been so happy lately, comin' up with names. It's not even that hard, Ron just shaved a few letters off his nickname but Jim still can't think of anything good for herself.

Occasionally, while sipping sodas at Bueno Nacho, Ron will reach over the table and flick Jim's straw with a smirk on his face. "What?" she'll sigh with more agitation than she thinks is fair. Ron'll flutter his eyes and say a name, like tonight he's obsessed with Jim becoming "Erin."

He really doesn't get it, does he? Jim nods along anyways, because she wants to be nice but honestly her dysphoria versus Ron's euphoria is making it hard to hang out with him. While Ron has already switched around their entire wardrobe and gotten a buzzcut — he's even started messing around with binders — Jim is just… Jim. She looks the same.

Like nothing ever happened.

"_I'm trans too_." So stupid! Why'd you have to tell him? Now he's expecting her to transition any day now when she won't.

Ron probably doesn't realize it, but whenever he looks at Jim all forlornly and dour, he makes Jim feel like shit. She's _trying_. She's changed her workout regime so that it's more geared towards getting a feminine body… than y'know, being best prepared to not get killed in the field. She's even tried on new clothes… but when she looks in the mirror and sees a stupid boy in a dress staring back at her, she can't do it and she always comes back home empty-handed.

It's not possible for her. Ron should just give up on her, she actually kind of wants to cut him off from going on with missions with her, but she really does need his company; he makes her laugh.

He also saves her life every now and then. Ugh.

See, Shego and Drakken are back — which is just unbelievable, Jim was really hoping she had scared them off at the last mission — and Shego is flying away on a blimp with — something. Some device, super powerful, can never go into the hands of evil! and stuff like that. Jim doesn't really know, she doesn't care, she's just here to kick ass, so she turns on her jetpack and _fwoom! _she's in the air.

A high speed airborne pursuit, she's never actually done one of these before, just dreamed of them and wow, this is exciting. The wind smashes against her face and she grits her teeth. Shego's snickering becomes louder and louder, and when Jim is level with the green lady, her hand lashes out like a snake and grabs the — thing.

"Tsch, whatever," Shego drawls. "Aidios, Princess!"

Jim's face gets hot — why is Shego calling her _Princess?_ She doesn't _know_, does she?

In Jim's distraction, Shego grins and slashes at the air herself, green sparks pulsating from her fingers, and she manages to rip off Jim's jetpack. Body unsupported, wind throttles up below Jim and her limbs flap wildly as she descends fast. Thankfully, she manages to grab onto a skiff of the blimp, metal thunking against her taut arms. Jim breathes so fast, hiking the groove of her boot onto the skiff and pushing off as much as she can without letting go, gently releasing the skiff with one arm to get her grapple out.

Her hair, having picked up a few inches of length since she met Ron, blows viciously in the wind and she loves it. She loves this feeling, doesn't matter how depressed she is. She lets the grapple fly, and screams like some kind of fucking animal. That whoop is good for the chest and she's off, soaring back up the side of the blimp. The gray rolls past her vision like hills.

It's so… cool!

Shego nearly spittakes at seeing Jim throttle up the side of the blimp like a bat out of Hell. She fires down a ray of green plasma. Jim swerves to the side and lets the beam strike the blimp. It sears and cuts through the inflatable. High pressured torrents of air shoot from the seams, nearly strong enough to push Jim off the side. Jim grins mischievously and kicks off the side of the blimp, grapple pulling her up and over. Beneath her, the blimp loses air rapidly and falls into a rapid decline.

All before Jim falls back towards the ground. There is this moment of panic where she realizes she's alone and no one is here to grab her, but before she falls too far down, two noodly arms wrap under hers and hook her by the chest to her savior: Ron.

Ron soars on his jetpack, hugging Jim close to his chest. She looks up at him, mouth agape. He's smaller than her, weaker than her too, but there's something about the way he holds her that makes her want this moment to last forever. Whether it's because she _likes_ Ron, or because his sweaty arms supporting her just really make her feel like a_ girl_. So heteronormitive of her to think of it like that but whatever, she's struggling! She deserves that regressive insight.

"Ron," Jim works up some inner courage. "I just want to say sorry for—"

Something goes wrong — classic Ron — and one of Ron's steel wings scratches up against a building, snapping off the whole tin. Ron's balance goes off and he swerves into a corkscrew, hardly able to heep hold on Jim.

He drops her —

— and her boots slam into a wooden stage, pain shooting into her knees. She rolls forward, limbs banging against the ground and she's back up to her feet, pushing onto her tiptoes to watch Ron soar dangerously far away. If she survived, he'll probably be fine but she can't help but blame herself for his screw-up. Maybe if she weren't so awkward around him and spent the time he needed for training, this wouldn't be an issue.

Camera flashes. Jim looks to her left and sees a crowd of cameramen surrounding her. She guesses she's standing on some kind of stage, and maybe she looks kinda hot right now or something. She'd like to think it's because of that, she may be feeling dysphoric but that's not going to stop her from feeling hot af.

"Hey," Jim tries to swat the cameras away. "I need to find my friend, please move."

But they don't listen, and they just keep taking pictures. Jim, body still tight from being in battle mode, tries to resist all of her angry temptations but eventually, she just can't do it any longer. The paparazzi won't stop — Jim grabs two of them by the elbows and pushes them to the side. More come in, but Jim's given herself enough elbow room to slip out.

She rolls off the stage and hits the ground running. She needs to find her friend.

Hours later, Jim and Ron are on a blimp together. Ironic that it's a blimp after Jim just destroyed one. But she's trying not to focus on that, and instead has Ron laid out over a cot she found in a janitor's closet. She presses a warm compress to his forehead; he crashed into some alleyway and he's just kinda bruised. Really, he can walk it off, Jim knows because that's what she does with far worse wounds.

But she wants to take care of Ron. He's like… representing the self Jim wish she took more care of.

"Thanks for the save, I thought Shego had me there," Jim whispers.

"NP, JP," Ron sighs, looking over to one of the little televisions. "Hey, look! Jim, you're on TV!"

Jim raises an eyebrow; it's not her first time being on TV. But Ron's pretty green so maybe that's why he's still amazed by it. She looks to the screen and sees a myriad of photos the paparazzi took. Apparently… her mission gear is becoming a fashion craze?

* * *

Black sweater, olive green cargo pants, and a utility belt. Heavy gray gauntlets and boots too. In the coming days, Jim fashion is "in" and everyone at school, even Bonnie, starts to dress like her. Though Bonnie and the other girls add in a bared midriff to the ensemble that makes Jim jealous. She wishes she could bare her midriff, but she can't because she's a 'guy.'

Taking her lunch tray to her table for two with Ron, Jim is still somehow an outsider in this world. She sits across Ron who's got his arm in a sling. His injuries were more serious than she thought, she feels kind of bad for that too.

"Hey, JP," Ron says, face stuffed with cafeteria mush. He drops his fork down on the tray forcefully. "This fashion craze is nuts, huh?"

"Yeah," Jim says sheepishly. "I… actually wanted to talk to you about that."

"Yeah?" Ron props a cheek up on his hand. "'Sup?"

"You noticed how fast it got picked up, right?" Jim asks, shoving her tray to the side. She needs Ron to understand this. "It's like the world was waiting to pounce on me for a Jim Possible fashion craze."

Ron doesn't say anything, all respectful-like.

Jim continues, "People all over the world look up to me, kids too, and um, I don't want to sound egomaniacal but it is true and…"

Jim sighs and drops her voice to something so soft and precious. "I can't transition when I have so many eyes on me." She coughs, and her voice goes back to normal. "Do you understand?"

Ron frowns. He seems to get it, he just wishes that weren't the case. He shrugs and reaches out to touch Kim's knuckle, brushing it delicately, like, we'll figure it out. "I thought of a name for you."

"Ron…" Jim hisses. "Not in public…" What did she just tell him?

"Nahnahnah," Ron waves it off. "Peeps don't be givin' a rat's patoeey about us, listen. A villain goes _Grargh! That's impossible!_ and you finger-gun 'em like so and say, _Actually it is Possible. __**Kim Possible**__, but that's a common mistake._"

Jim almost rolls her eyes because wow, how corny, but she feels something in her chest that's definitely resonating. Butterflies or something. She touches her chest in fact and looks at Ron carefully, and even though she doesn't know how she can possibly transition in this world that idolizes her so… she almost falls out of her chair lunging at Ron to hug him tight. Because it feels like an answer to _something_. She wants to start using it immediately.

"Thanks," Kim, soon to be Kimberly Ann, says. "It's perfect, Ron."


End file.
